So after said epic bus journey (hopefully the worst of the trip, but we won't hold our breath), we arrived at Luna's Castle, which we'd label more as a world. It sits on the edge of the water of Casco Viejo, the old city. We got in between 5am and 6am, greeted by a groggy receptionist and surprisingly several travelers waiting to embark on their journey du jour. We couldn't get beds seeing as it was still dark out, so we all parked it in the "living room" where we attempted to sleep until we could check in around noon. Covered in the lovely traveling film of sweat, dirt and general discomfort, the prospect of a shower was enough to make us sleep soundly for a few hours. By 1pm we had our beds in dorm 12 on the top floor, which we've confirmed has the most spectacular view of Panama of the entire hostel, if not possibly the entire casco. Wooden shutters open up to reveal the beautiful contrast of old and new that is Casco Viejo. As a result of wars and natural disasters the neighbohood has crumbling (literally), hallowed out buildings with an overgrowth of vines and trees trying to escape from the "windows" that once existed. These former residences then sit adjacent to renovated and beautifully kept buildings that seem to have been randomly chosen for the much needed upgrades. It's quite something to see such an obvious juxtaposition (yea, we use that word) of old and new. The asthetic is the same, however, so it's possible and truly romantic to imagine everything the way it once was.
To the left is then the even more stark contrast of Panama City's downtown area, which lies just across the bay. Skyscrapers and cranes form the skyline that makes the development of the city so clearly noticeable. Actually, after studying the view from our dorm window for quite a while, we see that probably about half of these imposing structures and being built right now. Panama City is making its way to becoming a force to be reckoned with.
After having a prolonged shower and catching some shut eye we were starved. We ventured out into the casco, following the directions from the receptionist, Jorge to Cafe Coca Cola. A small spot on the corner of a main intersection, we were finally the only gringas in the joint (which we later heard is not too common). We ate some cheap food and watched the coming and goings of the people, realizing that the everyday here is less Central American and more like that of Mediterranean, due to the diverse makeup of the people as a result of the influx of immigrants for the construction of the canal. We left content and even with some left over rice to be saved in the fridge for later.
We were happy to return to the hostel for a night of live music downstairs at Relic Bar, by far the best place we've been for a night out yet. A reggae jam band was playing that night, clearly scheduled for our personal enjoyment. But the place was packed! An interesting mix of backpackers and Panamanians, the courtyard where the stage was provided the perfect setting and an even better view of the full moon that sat above. The band was incredible! They are called Pureza Natural, native to this area, and included guest appearances from local musicians, whom everyone seemed to know. There were two rappers, another drummer, and THE MOST fantastic "back up singers" (although it's hard to categorize them as such because they are so dymnamite!) we've had the pleasure of dancing to. All in all, it was a stupendous night. We hung out with some Panamanians that were just as enthusiastic to be there as we were and danced the night away, howling at the moon.
The following day we were on a mission. Fish. Fresh fish from the water we can see from our room. We walked a rather roundabout way but made it to El Mercado de Mariscos, following the smell the entire way there. We arrived. It was almost like a pilgrimage for us, for when we arrived our Mecca consisted of stalls after stalls of atun, corvina, octopus, calamari, lobster and shrimp - oh the beauty of such a site. The high ceilings echoed the ferocious fileting that took place at each stand, and voices rang above one another to call out the catch of the day and salutations to passerbys. We were in heaven, for real! We made our way to the back of this crowded market, weaving through the pathways in search of the cevecheria. Just as small as all the other stands, dozens of small containers sitting in ice contained our main goal for the day. We stood there in bewilderment as others moved around us as we just observed to know what it is we're actually supposed to get. But in all honestly, they all looked incredible. A nice older gentlemen saw we needed help and pointed to the one he was getting. He probably got about a half gallon of ceviche. Wow. So we pointed to a smaller size container and said what he told us to..."La combinacion". Thank you, man, wherever you are now. This ceviche was a mixture of shrimp, calamari and octopus in a marinade of lemon/lime juice, probably an entire diced onion, and garlic. Maybe there are other things in it too, but that's what I'm tasting as I recall the greatness now. Ridiculous! We sat at the one small table outside facing the main street, giggling and bouncing in our seats with pure glee. All the seafood was cooked perfectly, chewy if it was supposed to be, juicy if it was supposed to be, crunchy if it was supposed to be. Each bite was better than the last. This was the moment we fell in love with El Mercado de Mariscos. We sat and digested, planned the rest of our day and got in a cab to the Causeway.
The Causeway is a strip of road and foot/bike paths that connect the mainland to a few small island stretching out a few miles from the city. Clearly more concerned about scheduling our ceviche trip, we arrived at the causeway at the height of the sun and set out on a long, hot walk along the water. This heat didn't do much for Kat's raging mosquito bites on her right arm that she got the night before. These things were huge! I promised her I wouldn't use the word puss, but she okayed oozey. Woops, guess I used both. There were about five starting from the elbow down to the hand, quite painful and definitely swollen. But she is such a trooper, and endured a day of heat and discomfort, not to mention a comment here and there from security guards throughout our day who would just point and make a face saying, "Oooh, poor thing." But she prevailed, they have certainly subsided now, but it probably won't be a highlight of the trip for her.
After the blazing walk around the Causeway, we caught at cab to the Panama Canal. Wonder of engineering wonders. It was quite impressive. The sheer traffic that comes through this thing, the 8-10 hour journey from end to end, and the impact it has had and continues to have on the country is astounding. We weren't too geeked about it before we got there, but it really was awesomely interesting. As the title of this post states we were still more fixated on the ceviche, and planned to return to the market for a potentially pointless trip to the market around 5pm. They had some left!! Maybe it wasn't as fresh as the morning, but it still put smiles on our faces. That night we didn't do much. Between the intense heat we were in all day, the bites, and the prospect of partying with Josh the next night, we just chilled and enjoyed a quiet evening.
Yesterday we made friends with another dormmate, Valerio from Stockholm. We told him the wonder of this market and how we had little planned for the day besides checking out the restaurant upstairs from there that we later found out is THE place to be on Saturdays. He joined, but how could he not? We walked through the random hardware market on the way - tiny stalls set up on the sidewalk selling anything from hubcaps (definitely not stollen) to construction gear, each one blasting their own music making for a minblowing walk through Diagon Alley.
We went up to the market and we all ordered la sopa de mariscos, a brothy bowl of wonder that hit all the spots, not just THE one. We sat for a while, people watching over the market and in the restaurant and a table of guys caught our eye. The three of us sat debating where they're from, Valerio convinced they were Italians because of the types of zippers on their pants and their huge sunglasses. But we soon found out they were from a few different places, and are apparently famous. A woman walked over to us after the guy at the head of the table took a picture of the three of us. She offered us three free tickets to a small music festival on the Causeway that was starting that evening. We nodded and smiled and enjoyed the prospect of going to some event that was under the radar. We followed up as we were leaving at their table because we wanted to know what type of music it was going to be. She said it's a few bands playing a range of rock/pop from Mexico, Panama, and Argentina, and introduced the guys around the table being from said bands. Then she also made a point to stress that here and in South America they are "quite famous". Okay, say no more. What time should we come? Sooooooo exciting! Again, these things just fall in our laps. Do we have it written on our faces or something? How, how could these things be possible? While we didn't want to get our hopes up in fear that it'd be a total bust, we just smiled the whole walk back to the hostel trying to contain our excitement. Again, just to reiterate, only good things happen at the fish market. And as Valerio so perfectly put it, if you just plan your day around eating, drinking and walking around a city everything else will just fall into place...and it did.
We got to the festival and it was awesome! One main stage under a tent with a backdrop of a pink sunset it one direction, and Panama City's downtown with the Casco in view before it in the other direction. Now we know this is legit. A small area but perfectly packed, not too much tho, the people were an eclectic mix of young trendy, punky, and Panamanian hipster. It was definitely our scene. The first band was alright, don't remember the name. The second was called Zoe from Mexico, the basist and the lead singer being a couple of the guys from the market. The crowd went nuts for them and knew all the words to their songs. We were on cloud 17, realizing just how cool it was that we got these tickets. The next band (Senor Loop) fell a little flat due to sound problems and the last band, Papasonicos from Argentina rocked the house! The atmosphere was so energetic and between the crowd and the lights it was truly where we wanted to be.
Recapping the festival and the music we realized something - at all the other festivals we've gone to in our lives, it's always about the music. You see your favorite band and wait to hear that perfect song that speaks to you in every way. There is always so much emphasis on the music for us, and rightly so. But this festival was a unique experience for us. Not only could we not really understand the lyrics, but not knowing the band or the history or the overall message we were somewhat restricted (but in a wonderful way) to just enjoy the moment and the serendipitously perfect manner in which we were brought there. As Kat put it, for once the music was not the most important part. But now we have a good base for exploring Latin American music, and I will definitely be seeking out some Zoe in the future.
Just to round it all out, after a great night with Josh and the Panamanians we went for "brunch" to the mercado and had some soup and chatted. This is our favorite spot. Girl talk over seafood, what more can you ask for?
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